Whitehall.--Sir W. Scott, _Fortunes of
Nigel_ (time, James I.).

_Maxwell_ (_Mr. Pate_), laird of Summertrees, called "Pate in Peril;"
one of the papist conspirators with Redgauntlet.--Sir W. Scott,
_Redgauntlet_ (time, George III.).

_Maxwell_ (_The Right Hon. William_), Lord Evandale, an officer in the
king's army.--Sir W. Scott, _Old Mortality_ (time, Charles II.).

=May=, a girl who married January, a Lombard baron 60 years old. She loved
Damyan, a young squire; and one day the baron caught Damyan and May
fondling each other, but the young wife told her husband his eyes were
so defective that they could not be trusted. The old man accepted the
solution--for what is better than "a fruitful wife and a confiding
spouse?"--Chaucer, _Canterbury Tales_ ("The Merchant's Tale," 1388).

=May unlucky for Brides.= Mary, queen of Scotland, married Bothwell, the
murderer of her husband, Lord Darnley, on May 12.

Mense malum Maio nubere vulgus ait.

Ovid, _Fasti_, v.

=May-Day= (_Evil_), May 1, 1517, when the London apprentices rose up
against the foreign residents and did incalcuable[TN-8] mischief. This
riot began May 1, and lasted till May 22.

=May Queen= (_The_), a poem in three parts by Tennyson (1842). Alice, a
bright-eyed, merry child, was chosen May queen, and, being afraid she
might oversleep herself, told her mother to be sure to call her early.

I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake,
If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break;
But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay,
For I'm to be queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May.

The old year passed away, and the black-eyed rustic maiden was dying.
She hoped to greet the new year before her eyes closed in death, and
bade her mother once again to be sure to call her early; but it was not
now because she slept so soundly. Alas! no.

Good night, sweet mother; call me before the day is born.
All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn;
But I would see the sun rise upon the glad New Year,
So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother dear.

The day rose and passed away, but Alice lingered on till March. The
snow-drops had gone before her, and the violets were in bloom. Robin had
dearly loved the child, but the thoughtless village beauty, in her
joyous girlhood, tossed her head at him, and never thought of love, but
now, that she was going